


Sonnet 95

by CyrillicBullet



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Facial, Fingers in Mouth, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poetry, S&M, Satan is a nerd, Smut, Spanking, blowjob, cum facial, cum in mouth, cum on face, face fucking, shakespeare is sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrillicBullet/pseuds/CyrillicBullet
Summary: Shakespeare makes for fantastic bedroom talk, when you think about it.
Relationships: Main Character & Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 210





	Sonnet 95

**Author's Note:**

> A story in which we assume MC is a raging kinkster.
> 
> I feel like Satan gets the rep for being needlessly ruthless in some fan fiction I’ve read when he’d probably be the most cold and calculating Sadist right after Lucifer. Here’s some smut I wrote this afternoon of one of the most underrated boys. 
> 
> This is also a gender-neutral MC!

There was one thing you knew for certain about the situation you were in. You had never once been put in a situation like this and you still weren’t sure if you were regretting it now or if you would regret it later. Green eyes peered at you from over the edge of the book in the man’s hand as you waited for a response to your question. Satan’s brow raised suspiciously.

Here in the devildom there were... not so much social rules, but there was something of a status quo. Demonic power was measured in how many human souls you could acquire but also by sheer power of influence alone as well. Satan closed the book he was reading on his thumb and showed his pensive expression as he rested his hand and the book on his lap. He was sitting in the house’s library across from the fireplace, sitting on the plush sofa. You were seated next to him, feet propped up between the two of you. The question had come out of left field, but you were curious.

“Shakespeare? He’s a famous playwright here now. He’s directed several of my favorite renditions of Hamlet and has even played Hamlet in several of them.” You should have suspected.

“But I thought he was Catholic? He wasn’t good enough to avoid Hell?” You cross one ankle over another and push yourself upright. The volume of works in your hands were some of his collection of Sonnets. “Huh. Guess all that making fun of the monarchy really did him in after all, huh...”

“Not really. He was a highly sacreligious person, mostly. And he was know to fornicate with... unfavorable parties.” He looks at the book in your lap. “You probably should have figured that out if the book was in this library.” You shrugged at him, looking back down to your book. 

“I found a bible in the school library.”

“Right, it’s a Celestial history textbook. We keep them in the library for the Celestial exchange students. And the humans too, I guess.” He picks his book back up and lays it in his lap, opening it back on the page he was reading. His read of the day was also a book of poetry, though one you weren’t familiar with. He glances up to catch you peering at the cover.

“It’s a collection of erotic poems and stories.” He says with a smirk. “Just a light read.” You feel your ears get hot and huff out a laugh. “Ah... you know, mine isn’t much better.” You pick up the volume of Sonnets in your lap. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day...” you recited in a feigned London accent. You grinned. “He wrote Sonnets about his male and female lovers, human world historians take the eroticism around everything even vaguely non-heterosexual, though...”

He ticks up a brow again. “Shakespeare is very, very bisexual. He has several regular rotating partners... do they think he was straight in the human world? That’s the true sacrilege of humans.” He clapped close the book in his hand. “Now, Sonnet 129, that’s a racy one, and Asmodeus will be led to blame for that. Did you know that they had a pact at one point?..” he trailed off as you leaned an elbow onto the arm of the couch and rested your chin on his palm while he talked. 

You listened to Satan as he rose from the couch and tucked the book under his arm, speaking about the influences Shakespeare took from his work and the many types of shows he did now in the devildom. “He’s still performing his best works but he also has several shows now that are MUCH more debaucherous. I'll take you sometime.” He placed a closed fist on his hip. 

“That sounds lovely, I’d love to see a current work by Shakespeare sometime.” You grinned warmly and folded the book into your lap. 

“I have an updated collection of works you can borrow by him, if you’d like. It’s in my room.” He steps forward and reaches out a hand for you to take it. When you do, he pulls you up and you place the book you were reading on the coffee table. “I’d also like to read the book you’re reading once you finish it.” He removes his thumb from the middle of the book and simply hands it to you. 

“I have another copy of it. Just make sure it comes back to me or I’ll kill you.” He chuckles and you laugh, but you know he isn’t joking. There’s little in this world Satan cares more about than his books. “Be careful, though, it can be a doozy if you’re not mentally prepared for it.” You take a peek at the inside cover and note the detailed drawing of a naked woman’s body. “Do you think I’ve never read graphic erotica before?...” You feel your face warm.

The two of you exit the library shoulder to shoulder and head down the stairs to get to his room, only pausing to chat with Lucifer for a moment about your studies before Satan manages to pull you away and back on track to his room. He loops your arm around his to have you keep up with his pace. It catches you by surprise but you don’t think much of it, likely just the leftovers of a hint of resentment for Lucifer taking your attention and demanding it like he always does no matter who you seem to be with at the time. He mumbles something under his breath but you decide not to reply. 

After a few more moments of walking you get to his door and he swings it open, the darkness making way to light as candles and lamps flicker to life. You’ve been in his room to look at his personal library many times before so this doesn’t seem unusual today. He gestures to the chair and sofa amongst the stacks and stacks of books. “I know exactly where it is, so I’ll just be a moment.”

You spy him as he grabs a ladder and walks behind several bookcases out of sight. 

The room smells like a thousand year old library and sagey, musky incense. You spy a few cones burning on a metal plate on a table near the sofa and chairs. You take a seat on the sofa and open the book to a chapter in the middle, which is a short story written about a demon couple (surprised, you are not) in the throes of passion while a few dozen strangers are watching. Do they have SM clubs here in Hell? Surely they do... You ponder the logistics of trying to find a way to attend one masked like you used to do back home, feeling your face start to grow warm when Satan comes back from behind the stacks of books with a large volume in hand. Your nose is still stuck in the book so you don’t hear him approach and are only made aware of his presence when he clears his throat. You jump slightly and drop the book, face down on your lap.

“Ah, couldn’t keep your eyes away? I suppose as a human your resolve is a bit weaker.” He chuckled, and you averted your own gaze and tried to laugh along with him. He shifted his weight, putting the fist back on his hip. “Hey, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed? After we just had that conversation about erotic Shakespeare work?”

You lay the book in your lap and raise your hands with pointer fingers up defensively. “Hey! Hey, no I’m not embarrassed, I was just thinking about... a hobby I had back home that I kind of... am missing now.” Your face hasn’t stopped burning and now there’s a trepidatious tone in your voice and he’s starting to look... very interested. The blond demon takes a seat next to you and crosses his ankle over his knee, his arms rested along the back of the couch. “Oh? Do tell.”

“You see, I’m not sure if I should...” you reply, your hand pressed against the side of your neck. You can feel your face’s warmth on your palm. “It’s not something anyone else knows about...” he glances back down at the book in your lap and snatches it up before you have the chance to try to stop him. “H-hey!” You reach for the novel with one hand but he’s already looking at the page you were on and grinning deviously. “Ahhh... I see. You’re a pervert, then?” The phrase smacks you in the face with a highly insulting level of embarrassment and you frown. 

“You don’t know that.” He looks over at you from the book. “This is my favorite chapter, you know. You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m also a pervert, if you can believe that.” You’re not shocked, but to hear him be so frank is anything but what you would have expected him to say.

“You don’t strike me as a sadist, though. Which means you’re a masochist.” You looked at him a little harder now, wondering what gave him the nerve to come to that kind of conclusion. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms in front of your chest and stare at him defiantly. “You can’t just accuse people of being masochists whilly-nilly. It’s rude.”

“But am I wrong?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“So I’m right,” he chided, sliding an arm back around the couch and laying the book open on his lap, “you’re a masochist.” 

“I literally didn’t say that.” You scoff, looking away from him with your ears burning.

“But you’re not denying it.”

“Plausible deniability.” You snap back, then look into his eyes which are glinting vibrant green. He’s not smiling but he’s not frowning, he’s just... staring, it gives you a chill and you reflexively swallow. 

“Tell me, then,” he spoke, his tone sounding much more like a specific raven-haired older brother, “tell me so I can make sure we are on the same page.” You felt his knee come to rest against yours, his arm falling from the back of the couch and onto your shoulder, suddenly pulling you in close. 

The contact is unwarranted but you don’t shy away, instead just meeting his eyes still and feeling yourself start to metaphorically sweat with the nerve-wracking eye-contact. You don’t break it though, not wanting to back down. 

“If you can look me in the eye and tell me you’re not a masochist, I’ll let you have your pick of anything you’d like me to do. Three unquestioned favors for the rest of the week.”

You swallow hard.

“If you can’t, then you prove me right, you are a masochist, and I’ll take you over my knee right here.”

Suddenly your pupils blow and your mouth waters. The last time you spent an evening at the SM club was months ago, before you were brought down here to attend RAD and live amongst demons. The last time you were throttled over the spanking bench and cried cathartic tears through the pain to your usual play partner and were held after words. You wondered if S&M here had the same sort of protocols. 

You kept you face still for another few moments, then bit your lip. Satan smirked a bit wider, his gaze unbreaking. “I’ll give you ten seconds, or you can walk out the door right now.” Your hair on your neck stood on end. His tone shifted, something was a bit softer while at the same time more commanding. You felt your heart beating in your ears, as he traced a hand up the back of your arm. 

You couldn’t think. “I...” you started, but found your mouth suddenly too wet to open without drooling. You swallowed hard again. “I’m not...”

“Five seconds.” His hand moved up over your shoulder and cupped behind your ear, his fingers lacing through your hair. “Three... two...”

Before he could finish counting, you quickly shot up and , without much thinking, had laid yourself with your hands grabbing the other side of the sofa, knees pressed against his leg as you stretched yourself over his lap.

It was silent for a moment.

“...Well.” His voice came over your shoulder, he leaned in to speak directly into your ear. “I’m shocked you managed to resist even that long.” He chuckled darkly, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. “Don’t think this is over just yet.” He cooked, using that hand that brushed back onto your shoulder to get you to turn your head so he could speak directly into your ear. “But if you want it to be, simply tell me ‘no more’ and I’ll release you. Hm?” The warm breath on your ear made you squirm, knees pressed together. “I need a response of some kind, to make sure I know you heard me.”

“... Yes,” you softly replied, with a nod. “Understood.” He took grip of your jaw and moved it down towards your throat, then circling to the back of your head where he ran his fingers through your hair. Suddenly he grabbed a section of hair on the back of your head and pulled you closer to him, causing you to gasp and bite your lip. “Nnn!”

“Good. Tell me about your experiences, briefly. I want to know what you should expect of me, should this continue.” You weren’t quite expecting that. He keeps hold of your hair, his hand slowly sliding up to rest under the seat of your pants, crook between his thumb and first finger cupping your rear just barely. You gathered yourself for a moment and spoke briefly about your time in SM clubs in your realm, of your usual club partner, and what you would do. Your face burned bright pink by the end of it, but you can tell he’s pleased by his voice and how he loosens his grip on your hair and instead scratches his nails against the base of your neck, letting you ease forward and rest your forehead against the arm of the couch. 

The hand on your thigh moves up to grab roughly as your ass and administer a few soft oats before his hand snakes his way back up around your throat again. His grip is firm but not strangling, and you breathe shallowly as your knees press together again and your hips rock back against his hand. “Call me what you wish, you’ll just worry about being my pretty little kitten. Hmm?” He grabbed roughly and squeezed, a whimper leaving your lips. “Yessir!” 

He hums, using one hand to reach under you and unzip your uniform pants and then slides them off you, exposing your underwear to the open. You shiver. “Good, good kitten...” He purrs, seemingly, and then continues to grope, his hands finding the seat of your ass and laying his hand against it as he squeezes the sides of your throat for a few seconds. “I’ll start with ten, then you can tell me if you’d like to continue.” You nod, and you feel his hand leave you and then come back down with a firm, but not too stinging smack.

Your head rocked back and a quiet moan left your lips, shocking yourself as to how eager you actually were to be touched so roughly again. Then his hand left again and came down, much harder this time. Then again, and again. Harder each time until he was rubbing gentle circles before drawing back for another. You felt his fingers press between your legs as you whimpered, rutting back into his hand slightly as the tenth swat came and went. “So far...?” He cooed, leaning back down into your ear.

“Yes!’ You responded in a slightly desperate, but enthusiastic voice. “Please, please keep going, Sir.” You couldn’t see him but he was grinning devilishly, hooking a thumb into the waistband of your underwear and tugging down to meet the pants hung around your knees. “Oho? As you wish.” He took your throat in his hand again and unleashed a quick volley of smacks to your now bare skin, the echo of his hand against your ass ringing through the corners of the room while you simply cried out, your mouth starting to drip saliva. He moves his hand up from around your throat and shoves two fingers into your mouth, your tongue twirling around them as you close your mouth around them, still whimpering from each heavy hit he administers. It seems to go on for hours, while he grabs a handful of your ass and roughly squeezes between thuddy smacks.

“Good little kitten...” he brings his hand down heavy and follows through, letting his palm bounce and then come to rest on the inside of your thighs again, as he gropes between your legs. 

“What lewd noises you make,” he started, his palm rubbing over your sex. “Come and open your mouth wide for me...” he guides your front half up as you half to shuffle back you your ass still in the air and he hovers your head over his lap, moving so that one thumb is hooked into the corner of your mouth and the other hand is busy shedding his own belt and pants, pulling the sizable bulge from his boxers and freeing his cock. “Why don’t you use that lewd mouth of yours for me, hmm?”

You look up at his eyes which seem to be alight with fervent hunger. “ _ How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame... _ ” he cooed, your mouth descending upon his length with open lips. He learned his head back and bit his lip, hips firmly planted while the thumb in your mouth moved away to allow his palm to cup the back of your head.

“ _ Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, _

_ Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name? _

_ O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! _ ” 

He breathed in a singsong tone, guiding your mouth deeper onto his cock. He pressed his hips up into your mouth now, the head pressing against your soft palate and causing your throat to tighten and gag. He hummed, pressing again. 

“ _ That tongue that tells the story of thy days, _

_ Making lascivious comments on thy sport, _

_ Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise, _

_ Naming thy name blesses an ill report. _ ”

You felt your eyes start to tear up but pushed through, your lips wrapped tight around his member and his hand guiding your head up and down with growing vigor, his fingers tangling through your hair and grabbing hold. He moaned, the opposite hand reaching and administering another firm slap to your rear. You whimper again, throating his cock. He breathes hard, licking his lips. “Oh, yes, kitten...” he clears his throat again,

“ _ O, what a mansion have those vices got, _

_ Which for their habitation chose out thee, _ ”

He pauses to swear, and lick his lips.

“ _ Where beauty’s veil doth cover every blot, _

_ And all things turn to fair that eyes can see! _ ”

He pulls your mouth away from him as he feels himself swell, and rolls you sidelong to kneel in front of the couch. He stands and he’s almost too tall for your mouth to reach him when he grabs the back of your head again and forces his cock into your mouth again, this time holding you still while his hips do the work. You can feel the thick head of his cock pressing against the back of your throat and you gag again, saliva coming out of the corners of your mouth and nose. You place your hands on his thighs, and feel the dull throb of his cock twitch upwards and then he yanks your head back, eyes and mouth open as he erupts, his cum landing on your face and the inside of your waiting mouth. He watches it cover you with a shudder and a sigh.

“Hahh... Fuck...” he uses his other hand to stroke the remaining cum into your open mouth and breathes heavy, eyes now dark as he peers down at you. His thumb comes back up and hooks the corner of your mouth. “Swallow.” 

You swallow, and then let your mouth fall open again, partly hotly against the palm of his hand. He kneels down and picks up a tissue from the box on the table, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you back up onto the couch to wipe your face and hold you close against his chest. He peppers a small batch of kisses onto the top of your head and whispers the finale of the sonnet while stroking your back:

  
  


“ _ Take heed dear heart, of this large privilege, _

_ The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge. _ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Sonnet 95 is about reflecting on sexual immorality and well... I’m guilty.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed! This is my second Obey Me! Fic so I hope I’m doing ok!


End file.
